


bokuto koutarou's worst kept secret

by caeos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (spoilers for the current arc i guess?), Canon Related, Dogs, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caeos/pseuds/caeos
Summary: Atsumu doesn't mind secrets, what hemindsare half-bakedliescreated by his new, bird-brained sidekick — he's going to prove Bokuto Koutarou's (alleged) boyfriend, talk of the Black Jackals' changing room, is all just a ruse if it's the last thing he does!
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 50
Kudos: 690





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> again spoiler warning for the current arc!! though you can still read if you don't read/aren't caught up on the manga :D  
> please enjoy~

_Being a setter is fun_ , Atsumu told himself through gritted teeth. _I love it and I enjoy myself_. Bokuto clapped his back once more, with enough force that it felt like his already slurried insides would be flung right from his body. Which was fine, everything was just _fine.  
_They’d been practising for hours now, Atsumu liked practise, he liked improvement. But he was only human, okay?! The same could not be said for his new partner. Bokuto Koutarou. New bane of his life, maybe second only to Osamu but they’d had a lifetime to build up a strong sibling rivalry. Bokuto had rocketed to the top of that list through sheer power of will alone. That and his seemingly limitless energy.  
  
But his saviour rang out right on schedule, a small shrill jingle emitting from Bokuto’s phone that halted him in his tracks instantly. Bokuto Koutarou’s “boyfriend.” Emphasis on the quotations.  
Look, Atsumu was not in the habit of second guessing his teammates, Bokuto was… tall, he supposed? It’s not _impossible_ that someone _might_ want to date him. Though aside from aesthetic appeal he didn’t quite understand what kept Mr Text Tone coming back for more.  
Bokuto was an acquired taste and, as helpful as he was for helping him escape overtime practice, Atsumu wasn’t quite certain he wanted to meet whoever had this particular kind of appetite.  
  
“Duty calls,” Bokuto said with a smile, eyes transfixed on his screen as he sent a series of quickfire texts. Yet another of Atsumu’s pet peeves though he wasn’t about to say anything now, lest he distract Bokuto from his primary objective of _leaving._  
  
“That your boyfriend?” He tried to put as much disbelief in his question as possible but Bokuto just gave one of those signature toothy smiles and responded affirmatively.  
  
“Yeah, it’s date night, we’re going to this-” Bokuto halted, realising he’d started to babble. “Sorry, you didn’t ask.”  
  
And there it was. The double edged sword that Atsumu found himself impaled on almost daily. Bokuto was somewhat insufferable, their personalities didn’t exactly mesh in a personal setting but by god he couldn’t find it in himself to be purposefully cruel -- not when Bokuto looked at him like a kicked puppy.  
  
“No it’s-” his teeth felt as though they were going to be ground to dust as he let his frustrations fall out in a sigh. “It’s fine.”  
  
“Oh, good!” Just like clockwork his spiker perked up almost instantly, bundling up the rest of his things from the sideline and neglecting to shove them inside his gym bag before making his way to the doors. “See you on…” He paused, counting the days on his fingers. “Saturday!”  
  
“Hey, wait, aren’t you at least going to-” aaand he’s gone. “Shower?” Atsumu finished, defeated.  
Whatever. He didn’t care! Why should he care? _Go on your date, Bokuto. I hope your boyfriend enjoys a post-practise sweat sheen on his boyfriend. Argh, insufferable!_

Again, being a professional volleyball player and having a secret boyfriend was not unheard of. That was not Atsumu’s problem- argh! It wasn’t a problem at all, he corrected himself internally, entering the lift of his apartment block.  
Fine, you know what? He _was_ curious. There, he’d accepted it. How could he not be? Bokuto was an open book, Atsumu knew more about his spiker’s family than he probably knew about his own because Bokuto had _no filter_. He could ramble on about anything, Atsumu could ask him his opinions on birds of prey and it was enough to give himself some white noise for give or take fifteen minutes whilst he read their manager's notes. He could ramble about his high school team, about _that setter_ , all the while neglecting his current one -- if it wasn't so annoying Atsumu might have been astounded by the rate at which he could babble.  
So how, pray tell, was Bokuto Koutarou able to keep a boyfriend -- an entire separate human being -- secret?! Simple, because said boyfriend did not exist.  
He was probably as nonexistent as Atsumu’s own love life. Which, speaking of…  
  
“Darling, I’m home!” He called, toeing off his shoes and shuffling into his apartment to the tell-tale pattering of feet. A small black and tan pomeranian launched itself into his arms at breakneck speeds, with no apparent regard for the dismount as Atsumu hurriedly scooped her up into his arms to save her from falling.  
  
“Hello! Yes, hi, I’m home! You miss me?” Darling whimpered a little in response, tailing spiralling like a pinwheel as she licked at his face insistently.  
  
“No,” a familiar voice drawled from his couch, flicking absent-mindedly through the TV channels. Atsumu nearly dropped his dog in surprise as his own face stared back at him, well, not quite his own face.  
  
“What are _you_ doing here?” He questioned, setting Darling down as she traitorously returned to the intruder’s side.  
  
“‘Nice to see you too, brother, how was work?’” Came the mocking response.  
  
“Osamu-”  
  
“You told me to come, asshole!” Osamu replied sharply, shaking his head, reaching into his pocket for his phone before reading off a text. “ _‘Feral jackal wants to do some spiking practise, rip.’_ Which in ungrateful brother speak usually means ‘come walk Darling.’”  
  
Darling panted happily beside him, front paws crossed fancily. “Oh, thanks then.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Osamu grumbled. “How bad was he then? I’m surprised to see you back so early.”  
  
Atsumu checked his watch, 7pm?! That was early, for Bokuto anyway. “Date night,” he replied, hoping that was enough context, he hadn’t quite physically or emotionally recovered enough for anything more.  
  
“Date-? Oh yeah, with his totally real boyfriend?” His tone was anything but sincere as he finally settled on watching a rerun of some cooking show.  
  
“That’s what I keep saying!”  
  
“Don’t be mean, maybe he’s real in the way your girlfriend is,” Osamu teased, scratching behind Darling’s ear as she settled her head down upon her paws.  
  
Atsumu huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Darling isn’t my girlfriend.”  
  
“No, just a totally normal name for a dog.” He leaned in, booping his nose against Darling’s as she stirred and padded over to curl up in his lap instead. “As always, your girlfriend likes me better.”  
  
“WE HAVE THE SAME FACE!”  
  
“Yet she’d still choose me over you!”  
  


***  
  


On Saturday morning Atsumu awoke with a mouthful of Darling’s fur and no feeling in his left arm. So pretty normal for him.  
Practice wasn’t until 7AM but he’d made it a habit to wake up a dawn so as to walk Darling and drop her off with Osamu before his day began. This also gave him time to check his phone. It was all pretty standard, a few business emails from his manager, his brother warning him not to be late with Darling, a couple of gentle roasts in the Black Jackal groupchat…  
  
That and a message from his coach. _‘Don’t forget the press meet this afternoon.’_  
Press meet? Press meet. Oh _shit.  
_  
Atsumu launched himself out of bed, startling Darling out of her fluff as she followed at his heels, matching her owner’s sprint as he slid into the bathroom and inspected his reflection. BAD.  
  
There was only so much damage control he could do, he thought, leaping into the shower and lathering his hair with shampoo and conditioner -- scrubbing at his skin with a feverish haste before leaping out and towelling himself off in record time. Atsumu was ambidextrous, at least when he needed to be, he pondered, brushing his teeth with one hand and wafting his hair dryer in the other. Darling watched on with what seemed like wonder in her tiny button eyes.  
  
However, the rest of his team -- the coach included -- did not seem to be as endeared as he crashed into practice half an hour late.  
  
“You better have a good excuse, Miya,” Coach prompted, brows furrowed into a deep v formation.  
  
“Well, actually-”  
  
A flurry of footsteps approached behind him, a mess of white and black nearly knocking the wind from him as Bokuto fell in line beside him, looking similarly frazzled.  
  
“Sorry I’m late!” He apologised profusely.  
  
“Ah, speak of the devil, no doubt you were out on a bender with your new best friend here-”  
  
“My WHAT?” Atsumu exclaimed at the same time as Bokuto wrapped a vice-like grip about his shoulders and pulled them both down into a deep bow.  
  
“Yes, sorry Coach, it won’t happen again!”  
  
This was the end of his tether, Atsumu had held his tongue, he’d even covered for Bokuto himself on his more generous days but he drew the line at letting this overactive husky incarnate ruin his perfect attendance. That was until he saw the desperate look in his teammate’s eye and all that anger was replaced by one singular thought as he turned to their team:  
  
_Don’t make me regret this._  
  
“I’m sorry, Coach, I’ll accept whatever punishment you give us,” Atsumu said dutifully as Bokuto sighed in relief.  
  
“No, it’s my fault, I’ll take the punishment on my own-”  
  
“Okay, okay, that’s enough, you both want to take the bullet for one another. Wonderful teamwork,” his voice was dripping with sarcasm but his brow seemed to have softened a little. Everyone did seem to have a soft spot for his feathered friend. “Diving drills. Both of you.”  
  
“How many?” Atsumu replied, damn, he’d spent all morning scrubbing off yesterday’s sweat and grime for nothing.  
  
Their coach grunted once more. “Until I feel you’ve repented enough!”  
  
They began without argument.  
  
***

“So are you going to let me know what was so worthwhile to drag me into your mess for?” Atsumu asked, trying to keep the fire from his voice as he and Bokuto passed a volleyball between themselves.  
  
“Boyfriend troubles,” Bokuto replied sheepishly, notably avoiding eye contact.  
  
Oh _no_ , after what Atsumu had just endured ‘boy problems’ was not going to cut it. “Troubles like you didn’t put your washing in the machine or troubles like his body won’t fit in your trunk?” Bokuto looked at him, horrified. Right, not quite his shade of humour. “Kidding! Come on, man, if we’re going to be each other’s alibi you’ve gotta tell me, right?”  
  
That had worked, he could see the cogs turning in Bokuto’s brain. “It’s just-” _wait, was he-?_ “We got a little-” _oh my god, he was, abort! Abort!_ “We got a little carried away this morning.” _HE WAS BLUSHING._  
  
“Oh god,” Atsumu gagged a little, he couldn’t hold it back.  
  
“What? Jealous?” Atsumu did a double take, Bokuto’s face was clear of guilt now, replaced with some self-satisfied smug smirk that he’d never seen on his features before, evidently proud of his extracurricular activities. It was gone in a second, blinked away as Bokuto slipped back into that regretful pout. “Sorry, I didn’t-”  
  
“Nah, you got me there, dude,” he clapped Bokuto on the back with some reluctance after being dragged through the mud like that. “I’m happy for you, really, I just don’t need to know or hear about that. Ever.”  
  
Bokuto grinned, slapping their palms together in a somewhat awkward handshake. “No problem… well… one problem.”  
  
“No, I don’t want to-”  
  
“Tsum-tsum, please.” Dammit, that kicked puppy look again. It’s super effective!  
  
With some hesitance he asked, “fine, what is it?”  
  
Instead of a verbal response, Bokuto just pulled down the neckline of his jersey to reveal-  
  
“Holy crap, are you dating a vampire?” Bokuto’s blush reappeared twofold as Atsumu continued on his spiel. “Seriously, is your boyfriend a leech? Is he trying to suck out your soul? You’ve gotta have some backbone, Bokuto, the team is gonna rip you to shreds for this.” He was laughing now, though he wasn’t quite sure when that had started, had Bokuto ever made him laugh before? Hmm.  
He wasn’t wrong about the team as well. Jackal by name, jackal by nature.  
  
Bokuto just whined in response. “I know, so you have to cover for me!”  
  
“I don’t _have_ to do anything,” Atsumu snorted.  
  
“Think about it,” Bokuto’s expression darkened, catching Atsumu’s arm as he started to move away. “You just admitted to being out with me all night and then I show up with hickies all over? And I mean _all_ over. No one has seen you and my boyfriend in the same room before, have they?” _Was he-?_  
  
“You’re blackmailing me?!”  
  
“ _To demand payment in some form in return for hiding compromising information for the other party…_ ” He pondered over the definition for a while before donning that sunshine smile. “Yeah! Yeah, I guess I am blackmailing you!” Why did he have to sound so cheerful about that? This guy was a sadist.  
  
“Your boyfriend better be something special,” he grumbled, pulling his arm away and slinking halfheartedly into the changing rooms.  
  
Something in Bokuto’s expression brightened, tinged with some sweetness that made Atsumu’s stomach curdle. “Don’t worry, he is.”

***

Another crisis averted, three cheers for Miya Atsumu!   
  
Not.

Bokuto had pulled another disappearing act after Atsumu’s assist, though now he thought about it that was almost a reward in itself. Although time apart from his team meant more time with-  
  
“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu drawled, slouched in his usual indent on the couch, Darling’s head rested in his lap.  
  
“You have your own apartment, why do you insist on staying in mine?” Atsumu huffed, grabbing some discarded takeaway wrappers from about his brother and throwing them in the trash.  
  
Osamu shrugged. “Better air-con.”  
  
He wasn’t going to rise to the comment, settling on sticking his head in one of the lower cupboards and screaming out his struggles until his lungs ran out of air. The cupboard did not respond.   
  
“Bad day?” Osamu asked indifferently.  
  
“Isn’t it always?” He grabbed a can of beer from the fridge, it definitely wasn’t part of his on-season diet but after the day he’d had he figured he deserved a few home comforts.  
  
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

Atsumu reached over Darling, grabbing a fistful of his brother’s hair and yanking it in a sharp circle, ignoring his yelp of pain in favour of slapping him upside the head.  
  
“MaYBe yoU sHOUlDn't be sO SenSitivE,” Atsumu replied, mockingly, gently piling Darling into his lap to rebuff any attempts at revenge as Osamu slunk to the other end of the sofa to lick his wounds. _Jerk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Furudate really said 'boy, stay humble' @ Atsumu and made Bokuto his partner... legendary behaviour lmao.  
> I've never written for Atsumu before so any feedback is appreciated lmao, it's hard writing as though I wouldn't die for Bokuto ( ; ω ; )  
> second chapter coming v soon!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realise this fic is just me throwing character spaghetti at the wall and hoping it sticks seeing as there's only like two chapters of canon to go on lmaoo

Lunch times were… strained. Atsumu couldn’t say that anyone on his team ate with much ‘grace’ but few resorted to the animal instincts of Bokuto Koutarou. Bokuto ate like someone was about to take his plate away at any second, cramming as much as he could into his mouth all at once. It was probably a survival instinct, apparently he came from a large family with a lot of older siblings (a fact Atsumu had learned entirely against his will) and that idea of self-preservation wasn’t so foreign to Atsumu given his upbringing with Osamu.  
  
Still, it didn’t mean he wanted to witness it.  
  
However, there was something different about Bokuto today. He had a lunchbox. Atsumu thought it was a lunchbox at least; Bokuto, however, was looking at it as though it were an armed bomb. It troubled him. What was _in there?  
_  
“Why don't you just ask him?” Another teammate, Kenji, asked. “The lunchbox. You think it’s weird too, right?”  
  
“What lunchbox?!” _Real cool, ‘Tsumu._  
  
Kenji rolled his eyes. “Hey, Koutarou! What’s in the box?”  
  
Bokuto’s head whipped up instantaneously with an expression of what could only be described as blind terror. Upon seeing the eyes of his team on him he sagged, defeated.  
  
“My boyfriend made it.” He sounded conflicted, he looked it too. His hands gripped the box with a childish glee but his downturned mouth looked like he’d rather ingest the latest ‘health food’ the coach tried to peddle on them rather than eat its contents.  
  
“That’s… nice,” Kenji replied unsure, wincing a little as Bokuto took a bite of whatever lay within the box and gagged before seemingly swallowing it whole. “Good?” Kenji prompted.  
  
There were tears in his eyes as he forced out a lie. “Delicious!”  
  
A buzzing sound cut through the heavy silence as Bokuto’s phone rang out with that telltale chime and the jackals watched in horror as Bokuto reverted to his usual technique of shoving as much food into his mouth as humanly possible. Only this time it didn’t even look like he was chewing, just forcing food-matter down his gullet with a conflicted vigour. There were shining streams of tears stained down his cheeks by the time he set down his utensils, wiped his hands on his shorts and tapped out a response on his phone -- Atsumu wasn’t even sure if he’d noticed and he _definitely_ didn’t want to be the one to tell him.  
  
Well, that had been… something. Though it offered no real insight to who his mystery man may be, Atsumu was struck with the terrifying thought that _Bokuto_ could be the well-adjusted one in their relationship. And what a terrifying thought that was.

***

“I’m not hiding,” Atsumu said under his breath, peering out into the corridor and sighing gratefully upon finding it empty before stepping out into it. He was, of course. But doing it and admitting it were two separate things.  
  
His day was going beautifully. Somehow he’d managed to avoid any and all Bokuto shenanigans all day long. Now, as he prepared to shower and go home for the evening, he wasn’t prepared to lose his winning streak. Which is probably why he collided nearly face first with the stranger, sticking similarly tight to the corridor walls as Atsumu himself had been doing moments ago.  
They were wearing a cap with the Jackals logo emblazoned on the front and a matching black face mask hid all but his dark eyes.  
  
“Excuse me?” It came out accusingly, all the frustration of being caught snowballing into one indignant statement at this shrouded figure. Eventually the nature of the situation caught up with him. “Hey, wait, you can’t be here!”  
  
The figure looked about, alarmed, as though scoping out an exit, Atsumu kind of wished he was a little taller -- intimidating people was a lot harder when you were at eye level with them. Instead he settled on verbally berating the intruder again. “I said you can’t be here, who are you?”  
  
The stranger stumbled back a step or two, hands lost in the paws of his sweater as he felt for the wall behind him. Wait, _that jumper_ , he recognised it. Holy shit, the dumb design, the pastel colours, the way it was almost two sizes too big on this figure-  
  
“Were you in the locker room? That’s Bokuto’s jumper.” Goddamn it, Atsumu knew he should be more annoyed about the thief but really it just stung that Bokuto didn’t even have to show his face to ruin his day now.  
  
“It’s mine,” the stranger replied weakly, eyes clearly blown wide panic.  
  
“Yeah right, I’m calling security-”  
  
Before Atsumu put his phone to his ear the stranger grabbed his arm, pulling the mask off his face with the other. For one, he was beautiful and also-  
  
“Akaashi?!” Akaashi’s cheeks darkened instantly, embarrassed. “It _is_ you, Bokuto talks about you _all the time._ You’re Bokuto’s… well you _were_ Bokuto’s setter, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Akaashi squeaked, coughing a little to bring his voice back to a normal octave whilst his face continued to glow redder and redder.  
  
“What are you doing here?” After a moment’s thought he added, “and why are you wearing Bokuto’s clothes?”  
  
Akaashi finally pulled his eyes from the floor, meeting Atsumu’s gaze with a feigned confidence. “Actually I was looking for Kou… Bokuto-san, we usually meet after practice on Wednesdays.”  
  
“Oh… okay, you can-” Atsumu trailed off. He was lying. No, it wasn’t that, _Bokuto was_. He had been all this time. Atsumu barely held off a manic laugh, Bokuto had never been seeing his _imaginary boyfriend,_ he’d been meeting his _high school teammate._ Here he was, caught in the act!  
Atsumu was trying to feel less vindicated, especially with Akaashi’s inscrutable gaze boring holes through him, but this was a win. After months of obvious lies, Atsumu had _won,_ he’d finally caught him out.  
  
“Keiji,” came a whispered voice from the adjacent corridor.  
  
“Oh Bokuto,” Atsumu cooed, as Akaashi visibly stiffened in place, his blush reaching critical levels as Bokuto slunk out from the shadows sheepishly. “Here, I found your _boyfriend._ ”  
  
Honestly, he really did try not to relish the way Bokuto flushed a mortified shade of pink as Akaashi looked at him, stunned. But Atsumu would only get to do this once -- he was going to _savour_ this.  
  
“Oh, did you not know, Keiji-kun? Bokuto here has been telling us you’re his boyfriend,” he let out a great big guffaw of laughter as Akaashi’s brow merely furrowed deeper in Bokuto’s direction. “He pretended to skip out on date nights and everything,” Atsumu leaned in close for this next part. “Even got all marked up before practice one morning and blamed you.” He felt a little stab of pity as Akaashi flushed an impossibly deeper shade of red, ears and neck burning hot as he now pointedly refused to meet Bokuto’s eye. “One day, he brought in this disgusting lunchbox and pretended you had made it-”  
  
Finally Bokuto made his move, his face was darkened now, just plain furious as he stared his teammate down. Again, Atsumu felt a little spark of satisfaction, he’d never been able to make Bokuto’s blood boil before. Oh, this _did_ feel good.  
  
“You told them I was your boyfriend?” A small voice came from behind Bokuto, Akaashi eyeline had fallen to the floor again as he fidgeted with his fingers.  
  
“Keiji, I really-”  
  
“Kou,” Akaashi’s voice was soft, disappointed, and as he finally raised his head there were tears glistening in his eyes. _Wait,_ Atsumu froze, _what was happening?_ Where was the anger? Why was no one else angry?!  
  
“You’re not surprised? He pretended you were his boyfriend!” Atsumu interjected, trying to fuel the fire.  
  
“Boyfriend?” Akaashi snarled. Oh no. There was anger in his voice but not directed at Bokuto, no, Akaashi was very, _very_ cross with him. He held up the back of his hand and Atsumu just registered a flash of gold before he flinched to defend himself. “I’m his husband!”  
  
Atsumu dropped… well everything, his jaw, his phone, his standards for finding love if he was already losing to Bokuto goddamn Koutarou!  
  
“H-Husband?” Atsumu stammered, eyes finally focusing on the simple wishbone ring on Akaashi's finger. _Husband._  
  
All this time… Bokuto hadn’t been wearing a ring had he? After _all this_ he can’t have missed something like that?! Akaashi saw his eyes darting over Bokuto’s hands and slipped two fingers beneath Bokuto’s jersey, pulling out a chain weighted with a matching golden band.  
  
Oh my god, he’d just outed his teammate.  
  
“Keiji, I’m so sorry.”  
  
Akaashi turned to face him. “You don’t like my lunchboxes?”  
  
Oh my god, he’d just outed his teammate and now he was about to watch him have a domestic with said secret husband.  
  
“No… I mean, yes! Keiji...” Bokuto took his hands, Atsumu braced himself. “You can’t cook, and that’s okay. I love your lunchboxes because you took the time to make them for me, I’d love them if you just crammed them full of dirt! I love you!”  
  
Tears slipped from Akaashi’s eyes, Bokuto brushed one from his cheek with the pad of his thumb before Akaashi scrubbed at his face with the paw of his jumper, taking a deep breath at looking to Bokuto with a besotted smile.  
  
“I love you too,” he said gently, rolling onto the balls of his feet to- oh my god, they were kissing?!  
  
Wow, somehow this was worse.  
  
Footsteps clattered down the corridor before coming to an abrupt halt at the scene.  
  
“What is-?” Atsumu just clung to Kenji’s arm like a lifeline, dragging him away from the couple who were clearly still lost to each other’s lips.  
  
“Please. Don’t. Ask.”

***

The night was mild so Atsumu didn’t much mind the snail-pace Darling had them walking at, the stars weren’t visible but if he unfocused his vision enough he could almost pretend they were. Osamu kicked a stone between his shoes, hell, after the day he’d had Atsumu was almost glad for the company. Almost.  
  
“You over it yet?”  
  
It all came back in flashes, all his ‘greatest highlights.' Leering all over Akaashi in front of his _husband_ \-- who is Bokuto! Yeah, he wasn’t getting over this anytime soon. Turns out Bokuto _was_ awful at keeping secrets after all. He’d been so caught up in not confessing he had a _husband,_ he’d been obliviously admitting to having a _boyfriend_ instead.  
Darling’s lead fell slack as two tiny paws reached up his leg, seemingly noticing her owner’s distress as her little tail waggled back and forth upon meeting her eye. Atsumu groaned as he collapsed to his haunches, letting Darling pepper his chin with kisses.  
  
Osamu prodded him in the shoulder with the point of his shoe. “Now, ‘Tsumu, what did we learn about _minding our business?_ ”

***

The night was mild but Akaashi didn’t protest as Bokuto pulled him into his side to share his warmth, the lights of the street and skyline reflected off the sheen of the tarmac like stars. Koutarou’s eyes were crinkled above the mask he wore, not-so-secretly enjoying his disguise, the brim of his Black Jackal cap pulled low over his good-humoured eyes.  
  
It was odd, how he could turn it off at will, Akaashi noted, that glow of something _more_ in Bokuto, the glimmer that drew fans to him -- it worked on a switch. Never to Akaashi though, Bokuto had been a million watts a minute from the moment he’d met him. He’d never dulled, matured maybe, but he seemed to only glow brighter with everyday Akaashi was blessed to be with him. He was proud to be his husband, to watch him grow, to be able to love him whole-heartedly and with reckless abandon. Best of all, he knew Bokuto felt the same about him.  
  
“So I assume you’re cooking tonight?” Akaashi hummed, amused as Bokuto let out a cry of anguish.  
  
“Keijiiiii, I’m sorry,” he wailed, burrowing his face into the crook of Akaashi’s neck. “Next time my mom visits we’ll all cook together, okay?” He mumbled, breath pleasantly warm against Akaashi’s skin.  
  
“That’d be wonderful, Koutarou,” Akaashi replied, only half-heartedly trying to contain the contented sigh that followed it.  
  
“And I’ll run you a bath when we get home!”  
  
Akaashi let out a light laugh into the quiet air. “Sounds great.”  
  
“And when you’re done-”  
  
“When _we’re_ done,” Akaashi corrected coyly, Bokuto took a second to catch his meaning but stood up to attention as soon as it clicked, the tips of his ears flushing red.  
  
“When _we’re_ done we can finish the other half of that movie we fell asleep to last night, how does that sound?” He was a couple of paces ahead of Akaashi now, hands buried deep in the pockets of his oversized puffer coat, hot breath huffing into the nighttime air as he spoke through that shining grin Keiji knew he’d be wearing beneath that mask, eyes glowing golden under the streetlights.  
  
“Perfect. Everything is _perfect._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading whatever this was and for leaving such lovely comments (〃 ω 〃)  
> find me on tumblr @ [ccaeos](https://ccaeos.tumblr.com/)!!


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